


A Friend

by FlamesRise



Category: Super Dangan Ronpa 2
Genre: Developing Friendships, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Post-Canon, Recovered Memories, Self-Hatred
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-07
Updated: 2020-01-07
Packaged: 2021-02-27 10:21:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,979
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22165567
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FlamesRise/pseuds/FlamesRise
Summary: Since waking up from the program, Komaeda has been struggling to come to terms with his past. There's one other person on the island who understands exactly what he's going through.
Relationships: Hinata Hajime & Komaeda Nagito
Comments: 5
Kudos: 38





	A Friend

_This is truly the worst kind of bad luck._

Komaeda visited the beach every day. It was like part of a ritual now - predictable, controlled, safe. Of course, trying to control the direction his life went in was more of a habit now than anything else. His luck had become something he couldn’t predict anymore. 

It was so different now from in the simulation. Cold, with overcast, polluted skies blocking out the sunlight. Dark, depressing, but peaceful. It was a good place to think. Thinking was all he did now, for hours and hours at a time, trying to piece together the fragmented memories in the hope that it might eventually begin to make sense.

He knew, deep down, that it was useless. Like trying to find some sort of pattern in the chaos of a thunderstorm, trying to predict where the lightning would strike next. It was so much easier inside the simulation, when he could detach himself emotionally from everything he’d done and choose his next move logically, methodically planning out the solution to fix it all.

There was no easy solution now, no escape, no way to atone for his sins. Maybe this was his true fate, their true fate. After all, they had survived against all odds, not just those who were miraculously saved by Nanami revealing herself as the traitor, but all of them.

_Maybe this is my punishment._

But did they really deserve to be punished too? Everything had felt so clear to him before, the symbols of hope he loved so much had brought despair to the whole world. They deserved to suffer. They deserved to die. 

As his memories had come back to him, he remembered _her_ too. How she’d skillfully manipulated them all, convinced them that they needed to commit horrible acts to save the world, to restore hope to everyone. How she’d played on their weaknesses, persuading Sonia that the only way to help her people was to lead them into battle, convincing Saionji that she could only be happy if she got revenge on her family for the way they'd treated her. 

The way they’d all looked at him when he woke up still haunted him. He had expected fear, hatred, anger - but they were _smiling_ , every single one of them, as if they were genuinely happy that he was alive. He’d tried to kill them all, he’d been so blind, so wrong to doubt them, to believe what he was told without a second thought.

He wished they could have just been angry. He wished they could have beaten him, choked him, stabbed him, burnt him alive, killed him. They should have given him what he deserved, for being so self-righteous, so egotistical, to think that someone as worthless as him could ever become true hope. 

But they didn’t. They treated him with empathy and compassion, they helped him regain his strength after being stuck in stasis for so long, they listened to him ramble on about his burning self-hatred, they replaced that disgusting thing attached to his arm.

_Why?_

He held out his metal hand, moving each finger individually, slowly, examining the mastery that had gone into creating it. Pure talent, wasted on insignificant, good-for-nothing scum. A painful reminder of how kind and thoughtful they all were, despite everything he’d done to them, to the whole world. 

The memories were still a little hazy sometimes, tangled up with the ones from the simulation, but it was all there. He remembered it all too well. Allowing thousands of innocent people to be slaughtered, allowing despair to grow and take over everything, helping _her_ successor, and for what? Some deluded idea of what hope should be?

He’d always believed that hope flourished under the greatest despair, that sacrifice, tragedy, was all justified if it could bring forth a greater hope than the world has ever seen before. But there was nothing hopeful about that. Dead bodies piled up in the streets, the once beautiful city reduced to ruins and ashes, the blood-curdling screams that rang out. Nothing but despair, wherever you turned.

He fought through it for a hope that never came. There was no miracle, no grand battle where hope and despair collided for hope to reign victorious. Just despair. Even now, with what remains of the future foundation beginning to rebuild the world, the hope everyone feels is dull and almost impossible to obtain, just barely breaking through cracks in the dense shadow that covers all of existence.

_When did things stop making sense?_

No, maybe the answer is that they never did. All the events that had transpired throughout his life were so hopelessly unpredictable. He had never been in control, only convinced himself that he was. Now all he could do was think, his mind spiralling in endless connecting circles, going over and over and over, trying to find some way to prevent that illusion from being shattered.

Because if he was never in control of his life, it was all for nothing. Everyone he lost, everything he fought for, all the sacrifices made - it was all meaningless. 

If that’s true, then all he’d ever be able to feel is-

_Despair._

That last thought consumed the swirling chaos in his mind, as the mental exhaustion took over and he drifted away, laying there on that beach, with nothing around him but the quiet sound of waves brushing against the shore.

* * *

He awoke to someone persistently tapping his shoulder.

“Hey… are you alright?”

He opened his eyes slowly and blinked, once, twice, eyes adjusting to how surprisingly dark it was all of a sudden. They focused in on the source of the voice, the figure sitting next to him. Hinata. Of course it was Hinata.

“Huh.” a genuine smile crept across his face for the first time in weeks as he realised why he had a strange feeling of deja vu. “Wasn’t this how we first met? In the simulation, anyway.”

As Komaeda slowly regained consciousness, it came to him how strange it was that he was speaking to one of the others so casually like this. Ever since waking up, he’d been avoiding them as much as possible, spending time alone lost in thought. The few interactions he did have were filled with self-deprecation, frantic incoherent rambling, the jumbled mess inside his head pouring out, beyond his control. That was the reason he avoided them, part of it anyway.

But Hinata’s soft chuckle somehow made him feel at ease. 

“Were you really asleep here all day? It’s almost 9. We were wondering where you’d gone.”

_Why?_

That question came up again, the one that looped through his consciousness constantly.

“I guess I was. Sorry, Hinata-kun.”

He shifted himself up into a sitting position slowly, his body feeling unnaturally heavy. He’d been even weaker than before since waking up from the coma, muscles atrophied from spending so long unconscious, but today it was somehow worse than ever.

They both just sat there for a moment, in silence. Komaeda wondered why he even came here. Why anyone would even bother. He wasn’t worth being concerned about, he didn’t deserve it. They’d all tell him he needed to eat more, or sleep more, or talk about all the painful memories, the regrets that kept him awake at night, but he never understood why.

“Hey, Komaeda? Why _do_ you spend so much time here?”

“It’s peaceful,” His voice sounded almost like a whisper, struggling to answer such a simple yet impossibly difficult question. “It’s a good place to think.”

“Have you been thinking about the past?”

“Yeah. Something like that.”

More silence. Even the waves were calmer now, and he cursed them for it. Anything would be better than silence, a void that tempted him to spill all his thoughts and emotions, just like he used to. Keeping it all inside the swirling vortex of his mind was torture, but that’s exactly why he had to. Because he deserved this, and no one else should be subject to it along with him.

He stared straight up at the sky, only a few stars visible beyond the thick smog, but they were enough to focus on so he didn’t have to face reality, the boy right next to him who could so easily shatter the walls he’d build to protect everyone from himself.

“I think… I think I’m finally starting to understand you a little” Hinata’s words cut through the stillness. “Back then, I tried so hard to understand what the hell you were thinking, why you acted the way you did, and I felt like I never got any closer to the truth”

“I’m sorry-” The choked words came out almost as a reflex, but he was quickly cut off.

“Don’t. You don’t have to apologise, or explain.” He still couldn’t bring himself to even glance at the other boy, but he felt a softness to his words that he’d never heard before. “You want to know why I don’t hate you after everything you did, right?”

Komaeda felt as if he might stop breathing. To have someone see right through him like this was… horrible. He felt vulnerable, exposed, weak. One of the only things he was good at was staying one step ahead of everyone else, dominating every interaction, controlling the direction it went in, making sure no one could see how he really felt. His gaze shifted to the sand beneath him, hands gripping his knees far too tightly.

Hinata continued regardless. “When you… when you killed yourself… you didn’t have to do it the way you did. That image… is something I can’t forget. You did it that way for a reason, right?” his words became shaky, but he never faltered. “It took me a while to realise it, but- you can’t forgive yourself, can you? And not just for that, you can’t forgive yourself for everything bad that’s ever happened around you, even if it wasn’t your-”

“Stop.” It came out as a hiss, aggressive, spiteful. “You don’t know anything about my life.” His grasp grew tighter, to the point it became painful, fingertips pushing down hard into skin and bone, the metallic ones sure to leave bruises. 

“No, I don’t. But I know how your luck works, and I know you pushed me away intentionally when I tried to get to know you. When I started to put the pieces together I- God, Komaeda, I can’t even begin to imagine what you must have seen” 

“Stop.” This time, it was a pitiful whimper, his voice cracking and broken, not even sounding like it really belonged to him. His head felt full of static, the turmoil only growing with every word Hinata spoke, his body beginning to shake.

“I’m not going to stop. I won’t stop until you listen, until you talk to me. You can’t keep living your life like this forev-”

“Why not? I deserve it!” Komaeda cried out, something inside him snapping and bringing him back to reality, turning to face the person speaking those aggravating words. “I deserve everything that’s ever happened to me!” he sobbed, and only then did he realise there were tears pouring down his cheeks.

Hinata looked shocked for a second, before a strange serenity washed over his face. He was so unlike the Hinata from before, emotional, irrational, impatient, angered by the slightest rude comment. That Hinata would have never been able to break Komaeda like this. 

The other boy placed a still, gentle hand on his trembling shoulder as he continued to cry, wrapping his arms around himself and gripping far too tightly, sobs turning into screams as everything he’d been keeping locked away exploded outwards in a messy, humiliating display of emotion. They both sat there like that for what seemed like forever, until the sounds of crying softened, and Komaeda’s breathing returned to normal, with only small whimpers escaping now and then. The once dramatic scene quietened to near silence, with that hand keeping him grounded.

“Hinata- I-” he choked out between small sobs. 

“It’s okay.” It was almost as if he could read his companion’s mind. “Komaeda, can I tell you something?”

All he received was a small mumbling noise in response. 

“When you said that you thought we were similar… at the time, I couldn’t believe it, no- I didn’t want to believe it, but I think you were right.” He paused, and Komaeda looked up at him through eyes still blurry with tears. He looked as if he was a million miles away, lost deep in thought. “Because… I can’t forgive myself either”

“Hinata-kun,” he desperately tried to get his voice back so he could speak clearly. “What do you mean?”

“Because of me… Because of my selfishness, my arrogance, she’s-” he was still staring straight ahead, but tears were welling up in his eyes. “Chiaki… she’s dead. Because of me. I- I was there… and I just allowed it to happen,” his voice became almost hysterical “I loved her, and now she’s gone, and it’s all my fault!”

The sight was a shocking one. Komaeda had never imagined he’d see Hinata actually _cry._ It really must have been a shock, because before he even had time to process what he was doing, he’d shifted closer and wrapped his arms around the other boy. Through his tears, he let out a startled cry, and Komaeda’s whole body went stiff as he realised what he’d done.

“Hinata-kun I- I’m so sorry I just-” he tried to pull away, but before he could even move he felt hands gripping the front of his shirt, pulling him in closer.

He froze in place, unsure of what to do or how to feel as Hinata continued to sob against his chest. It had been so long, so, so, painfully long since Komaeda had felt another person close to him like this. It was overwhelming, the body heat feeling like it could burn him, his mind going haywire as he panicked at the thought of the horrible things that happen when he lets someone get close, while simultaneously chastising himself for allowing anyone to touch his disgusting body.

But as he heard Hinata breathe more steadily, that pained look on his face fading away, the warmth spreading throughout his chest caused all the panic to melt away. He allowed himself to feel the other boy’s warm, soft body, and it felt better than anything else in the world. 

_Maybe… this is okay. I don’t deserve it, but if it makes him happy, maybe it’s alright._

After a few moments, Hinata's grip loosened, and he pulled away. “Thank you…” he spoke in a soft whisper, barely even audible, but Komaeda picked up on every word he said. “Maybe… we’re both pretty broken.”

Komaeda couldn’t help but smile. “Hinata-kun, I can assure you that however broken you feel like you are, you could never lower yourself to be similar to someone as worthless and talentless as me.”

“But that’s not it, is it?” The confusion on Komaeda’s face was evident. “You don’t really care about talent, do you? You’d rather live your life free from all that bullshit.”

His mouth fell open in response. “You- you were lying! You _were_ watching that!” He felt betrayed, but somehow…

After everything that’s happened, maybe it was for the best. Maybe it was time he finally gave someone the truth. If he couldn’t even predict the effects his luck would have anymore, maybe there wasn’t any real reason to feel afraid. The memories of everyone he’d seen die were still there, forever burnt into his consciousness, but… what if Hinata was right? What if he _couldn’t_ keep living this way forever?

Hinata’s nervous laugh interrupted his thoughts. “Ah, right, I'm sorry. I was worried, I wanted to make sure it was all going well. You were in a coma, you know.”

“I think… I'm okay with that." He gave the other boy a slight smile, and got one in return.

Hinata shifted nervously, clearly feeling uncomfortable about his accidental revelation. “We should probably head back sometime soon. I told the others it’d be 20 minutes at the most.”

“You’re right,” but Komaeda didn’t want this to end right now. Maybe it was insane and ridiculous, but he’d felt something other than misery for the first time since discovering that awful truth about his past. So maybe that’s why he couldn’t stop himself as Hinata stood up to leave 

“Wait-”

“Huh?”

“I-” he hadn’t thought this far ahead. Trying to calm the visions of disaster looming in his mind he blurted out “I’m happy- I could talk to you like this. I- I think- I want to try and talk more” he regretted the words as soon as he said them, realising how ridiculous, how stupid it sounded to-

“I’d like that” Hinata’s wide smile put a stop to the spiral of self-deprecating thoughts immediately. Komaeda got to his feet on shaky legs, and with a final smile towards Hinata, turned to walk back to the cottages.

“Hey, Nagito-” the voice stopped him in his tracks, he’d never heard Hinata call him by his given name before, it felt strange, bizarre, but not unpleasant. “Is it okay if- I call you a friend?”

_A friend._

A word that was so unfamiliar to him. He wasn’t sure whether he even knew how to be a friend, what that would entail, whether those were standards he could meet. He didn’t know how that would play out, welcoming someone else into his life like that would make things difficult, unpredictable, creating a kind of chaos he wasn’t accustomed to.

But somehow, despite all that, when he looked back into Hinata’s eyes, the red and hazel shining with anticipation and… nervousness? He answered without hesitation.

“I would love to be your friend, Hajime.”

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this like a month ago and I feel kinda meh about it but thought I might as well post it here anyway
> 
> Platonic Komahina is still cute as fuck okay


End file.
